Dear friends and family-- Happy holidays to you all. We’ve decided to cobble together an annual report, especially for the benefit of you who haven’t heard the details directly from me on my cell phone while driving which I seem to do a lot of these days somehow. (I’ve developed the vengeful habit of riding my Verizon minutes’ limit to the razor’s edge in a small man’s attempt to kick the Big Man in the shins with my crippling singular usage of his network and thus get my money’s worth. It feels good.)
Life is great at Norwegian Woods Farm (and B&B if you don’t sound too weird to us on the phone). If you are a small white dog, you will be adored, watched like a hawk, hugged and damn-near smothered with affection. In return, you will only occasionally crap inside. We’re batting 800 on that front!! (800 being the aggregate number of times we’ve had to reach down with a paper towel).
If you are a horse, your every need is tended to lovingly and dutifully by the sexy lady of the house. In a week or two, there will be no more available stalls. This means a few things: 1) we are now firing our commercial horse boarding business on all cylinders 2) I no longer see cute snorting mounts waiting for a ride and attention. As we are eligible for the NY State Agricultural Exemption, I see proud , well-trained 1400 lb tax deductions! 3) There’s a good chance that in my stocking this year I’ll get a hammer, some 2x4s and a smile from my wife.
If you are a guinea hen, your gorge on tiny deer ticks has come to a merciful end with the snow. (We got the ugly bastards b/c they eat 1000/ day each. One day I stayed home and counted) If you are a chicken, you are in a quaint, barely windproof piece of Section 8 housing that I (and a few college friend onlookers) slapped up one day. You will spend the winter huddling under a heat lamp put in for warmth. Warmth? I think it is part of a larger conspiracy propagated by Cori to slow-cook, oven-roast these suckers over the winter. Nonetheless, they do lay eggs and Cori has become ‘The Egg Lady” selling fresh eggs to neighbors from a self serve cooler at the bottom of the driveway. Somehow this easy gift to the local high school pranksters has been over looked by their blind lust for our mailbox which was finally bashed to smithereens a few months ago. (In my high school days, our family’s mailbox was always the only one spared which made me Suspect #1 in the neighbor’s eyes. But I had nothing to do with it and told the accusers as much- I wasn’t so stupid that I would leave only my mailbox in tact, thank you. Errrrrgghh.) Our neighbors love the eggs and Cori is the Queen of Old Queens Highway. The $3 / dozen fee covers the cost of armor she needs to get past the rooster. He’s a mean SOB and especially hates me (I’m vegetarian. What gives?!)
If you are a cat at Norwegian Wood farm, you apparently didn’t get the memo that we don’t ‘do’ house cats. Period. Despite our continual lower leg blocks at the front door, they think they will wear us down and finally invite them in. And they are mistaken. “You are barn cats,” I yell daily. “What don’t you understand about this?” The sorry answer is , None of it. None. When either of us leaves the house, we are trailed by a proud parade of 6 cats each trying its damndest to get under our feet and trip us up.
This fall we finished off Furry Phones International Head Quarters and Industrial Park, so now the workshop has heat, lights and a parking space for the ‘Employee of the Month’. That means production can continue without interruption. Listen carefully and you can hear the sound of whips cracking! Business has tapered to a reasonable flow, (has the global market been saturated already? Yikes!) which has allowed a little more time for Cori’s second and third love-- to ride and instruct. (I’m still safely at Love Number 1 for the moment.)
Cori has also been awarded the title of “Ms Kerhonkson Landfill 2005” by the ogling gents who run our town dump. She has swept the contest for the 5th year in a row, not surprisingly. Her prize is that the guys fall over themselves to unload her filled pickup truck for free while charging me $10 to throw out my recyclable soda can.
I’ve been swinging hammers on a nearby building project that seems to rival the Taj Mahal in terms of time (and cost) needed to complete. Someday it will be the home to a fabulously wealthy Wall Streeter, and they will double my asking price because of the love and extra attention put into the house. That’s my mantra anyway as I slip on my keester with 50 lbs of supplies on the icy, inaccessible driveway.
With an unexpected revisit from a musical muse, I have gathered up my very talented high school friends and packed back into a small, aromatic, recording studio to record another CD. This new year we will be attempting to get some more radio airplay and then record another CD. It’s really great to be writing music again. And on the subject of writing, I plan to finish my novel this winter, though I certainly realize this refrain is beginning to sound familiar.
The LadleCradle was picked up by a very large catalogue (www.wdrake.com) so come January 2006, I’m curious to know who out there falls prey to the stern warning that no kitchen is complete without one, no home is safe. In any event it is exciting and I appreciate the validation, even if it is from an outfit that also sells miniature garden gnomes and plastic corn on the cob holders in the shape of corn on the cob.
Many of you have asked about our parents. My dad died three times this summer in one scary day and lives to tell about it largely as a result of a regular person’s CPR skill. With gratitude, this spring I am re-certifying as a NY State EMT. (editorial note: CPR classes in your area are fun fun fun and only take a few hours.) Cori’s pop had some health scares too including the black and blue results of accidentally using a log splitting maul to trim his toenails but is doing great now and looks smashing in his padded flat shoe. Fraus Heidi and Helga are well and are keeping their convalescing husbands (somewhat) out of trouble. Nephews and nieces number in the hundreds now and are growing like weeds.
We’ve been fortunate to have dear friends and even some family choose to spend time with us on our farm and elsewhere. Despite our many interests, hanging out with each other and friends continues to really be what we cherish the most – Christmas (Am I still allowed to use this word?) is the time when we get the cards of your cute kids, your updates, your warm wishes. And we are reminded of how lucky we are.
With tons of love and the wish to see even more of you in 2006…
Stay well and have a happy new year.
Wally and Cori
PO Box 96
Kerhonkson, NY 12446
845 626 5125
cwn4@aol.com Farm picts are at: www.eventponies.com
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